


there is a world

by dorypop



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Gryffindor Ronan Lynch, M/M, POV Ronan Lynch, Pining, Ronan Lynch Has Feelings, Ronan has the hots for Adam's tie, Slytherin Adam Parrish, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25448185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorypop/pseuds/dorypop
Summary: “Parrish,” he tried again.“What?” Adam snapped.“You’re not wearing your tie,” Ronan hissed, somehow succeeding in making it sound like the end of the world was near. Which was an awesome way to sound, if you asked Ronan, and he briefly wondered if he should polish that very specific skill so that he could be admitted back into Divination. Not that he cared one single bit about that shit, mind, but Ronan had only realizedaftersubmitting his Sixth Year subject list to McGonagall that he’d solely be sharing thisoneelective with Adam.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 31
Kudos: 244





	there is a world

Ronan had never seen Adam Parrish’s tie out of place. Like, ever. And he’d met the guy on the very first day of school, in the boats—Ronan had had to ask Declan for help with his tie knotting, despite his dad’s instructions carefully written in a piece of parchment, but of course Adam Parrish didn’t need that. He was the boy with the weediest limbs in that flock of runts, all wide-open eyes and excited whispers, and he probably could’ve won a prize for the cleanest tie-wearing. McGonagall would have approved, of course, if only Adam had been a Gryffindor.

And after that had come the flying lessons—Ronan was _so_ glad they’d ended after first year—and hundreds of lazy Sundays, and very windy mornings in which Care of Magical Creatures was of course not moved to be held indoors, and weeks of studying that inevitably led to exhaustingly difficult exams, and even that one time Ronan, Blue and Adam had been together in a particularly nasty detention in which they’d have to scrub _at least_ three thousand filthy cauldrons.

Through all of that, Adam’s tie had remained perfectly polished.

Without Ronan realizing, it’d become the one constant thing in his life—the world kept turning, because Adam Parrish’s tie was still in its tidy knot.

Ronan supposed he didn’t actually sleep in it, but he didn’t have a way of knowing, seeing as he’d never shared a dorm with Parrish and he was arguably the only Slytherin whose presence he tolerated. On a good day.

If Gansey were to be invited to Ronan’s thoughts, that would be the precise instant in which he’d throw his Disappointed Dick look in Ronan’s direction. _You surely care about Declan a lot more than you let show, Lynch_ , he’d say. Which was the main reason why Ronan was _never_ inviting Gansey into his head.

So there was Ronan, already sitting at his desk in the Study of Ancient Runes classroom, making a point of not taking his textbook out of his bag despite Tad Carruthers’ very pointed look in his direction—and why did he even care, the fucking jackass, couldn’t he just go back to ogling the Quidditch players in the room and leave Ronan the fuck alone?—when Adam Parrish came through the door.

Ronan paused.

Adam was not wearing his tie.

Adam Parrish was _not_ wearing his tie.

“Parrish,” Ronan whispered, not caring that Professor Babbling was already making her way towards her desk. Adam didn’t look up, because he was busy wrestling _several_ pieces of parchment from his bag. “What are you even going to _write_ in there? This class is only two hours long.”

Adam _did_ glare at him at that, and Ronan got bonus points because he did so from _under_ his eyelashes.

Some idiot, probably friend of Henry Cheng’s, asked a question at the front of the room. Ronan realized he’d got distracted.

“Parrish,” he tried again.

“What?” Adam snapped.

“You’re not wearing your tie,” Ronan hissed, somehow succeeding in making it sound like the end of the world was near. Which was an awesome way to sound, if you asked Ronan, and he briefly wondered if he should polish that very specific skill so that he could be admitted back into Divination. Not that he cared one single bit about that shit, mind, but Ronan had only realized _after_ submitting his Sixth Year subject list to McGonagall that he’d solely be sharing this _one_ elective with Adam.

Who took a hand to his neck, as if to make sure Ronan was not playing a practical joke on him. The tie didn’t magically appear, as opposed to a very faint blush in Adam’s cheeks. Ronan rapidly changed his mind on the convenience of Adam Parrish not wearing a tie.

“Guess I forgot,” he mumbled, fixing his attention on Professor Babbling’s babblings, as if it were not perfectly clear for Ronan that Adam’s mind was very far away from the class.

The thing about Ancient Runes was that they were infinitely more fun to play with when you got to draw them into stuff to see it explode, so Ronan spent the next two hours going over what could possibly have happened for Adam Parrish to _forget_ his tie. He only took a brief pause in this futile exercise when Adam himself turned one piece of parchment quite loudly and made Ronan watch his languid hand taking fast notes. Ronan pondered if he’d accept a note-taking quill as a birthday present, before realizing he and Adam were not quite on a friendship stage that allowed birthday presents to be exchanged. Maybe a Christmas card, yes, but not a present.

He could drill the idea into Gansey’s head, though. Gansey would then buy Adam at least _ten_ quills (self-inking and glitter-spreading and _look, Ronan, this one is charmed to only write in Old Coptic, isn’t it useful?_ , and Adam would get furious at him, and Ronan wouldn’t have an excuse to hang out with Adam if Gansey and him fought.

So, abort Gift-Parrish-A-Quill plan. Back to guessing about what could’ve happened to Parrish’s tie.

Ronan had a very bright imagination, according to his mum. Despite that, he couldn’t produce a single plausible scenario—that didn’t involve a national emergency, that is—for what could have happened, before the end of the class.

So, naturally, he cornered Adam before he could run away and gathered all the nonchalance he could muster into the very casual way Ronan slouched over Adam’s desk.

“Need to talk to you,” he said.

Adam swept his mountains of scribbled parchment from under Ronan’s robes.

“I have Herbology.”

“It’s _important_.”

“So is Herbology.”

Ronan frowned. Adam was usually snappish with people—especially if said people were Ronan, who was very aware he was sitting on Adam’s textbook, which wasn’t actually Adam’s but had been borrowed from Blue’s second cousin or some shit—but he normally made a point of looking directly at you when he told you to fuck off. It was actually what made it worth it, in Ronan’s book, to pester Adam Parrish.

“What the fuck did you have for breakfast today,” Ronan said, when Adam kept glancing aside.

“Five points from Gryffindor, Mr Lynch. Please close the door when you are done.” Professor Babbling left the classroom.

“I didn’t,” Adam said, standing up. Something in the very soft tone of his voice made Ronan release Adam’s book from his hostage.

“You didn’t have breakfast? Why not?”

Adam sighed. “What did you want to talk about? Everybody else’s left,” he pointed out.

Ronan glanced around, checking for gossiping ghosts, even though Professor Babbling had assured them first day she’d long ago placed several sets of protective runes around her classroom door—you never knew with Noah, after all. He then flicked his wand and closed the door with a mild locking spell, because he didn’t want smartasses like Tad Carruthers coming back and interrupting because they’d forgotten their scarf on their chairs.

“What about Herbology?” Ronan asked, because when it came to choosing between Gryffindor courage and sabotaging himself, Ronan had very weird principles.

“I’m already late, thanks to _someone_.” This got Ronan a small smile, which was all the encouragement he needed.

He dragged a forgotten chair—not the one with the lost scarf, mind, it was in Hufflepuff colours—to sit down in front of Adam. The room was empty, so it actually sounded like a storm was coming. Ronan smirked.

“So,” he said.

“So? What was so important?”

“You tell me.”

“What?”

“You forgot your tie!” Ronan reminded him.

Adam gasped, and it echoed around the high ceilings.

“You wanted to talk to me because I’m not wearing my tie? _You_ don’t wear it half the time, Lynch! How many points have you lost because you utterly refuse to wear your uniform properly?” Adam was for some reason trying to keep his tone down, but he was making it weird, like he was shouting with a very small voice.

Ronan crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Exactly,” he said. “I do that. You don’t. Like, man, if you told me you learnt the ironing spell before _Wingardium Leviosa_ I’d fucking believe you.”

Adam snorted.

“Right, whatever you say. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Is that why you haven’t rushed to Herbology, because you’re ashamed to be seen without your tie inside your precious greenhouses?”

Adam shook his head, but Ronan could see he wasn’t angry now. Not much, anyway.

“So,” he repeated.

“So?”

“What was it.”

“What was _what_ , Lynch.”

“Why did you forget your tie?”

Adam’s hand came back to rest at his neck. He smothered the collar of his shirt, naked without its most precious ornament.

“It’s nothing, really. I just forgot. I was—I was thinking, I guess, and then I was running late, so it probably slipped my mind.”

“Like it slipped your mind to have breakfast? Haven’t you heard? It’s the most important meal in your day.”

“Yes,” Adam said. It was apparently the end of their conversation, because he stood up and nodded at Ronan. He’d climbed two stairs before Ronan’s mind caught up with the fact that Adam was leaving.

He rushed to follow; his boots announcing the room where he was going when he circled around Adam and stood in front of him.

“Seriously, though,” he said, after Adam had stared at him for six seconds. “What’s wrong?”

There were several possible scenarios that could go down when you came too close to Adam Parrish. If you were Gansey, for example, you could very well get your feet cursed and silent treatment from one to two weeks—it happened every three or four months. If you were Blue, you could get the same with a bonus of a bouquet of exploding flowers after the second week, when Adam came back to you with an apology—had happened once, November of Fourth Year, after which Blue and Adam had dated for maybe five weeks before they’d broken it off. If you were Noah, you could get an exorcism—that of course hadn’t worked when they’d first tried it, back in First Year, but now it was very likely to ban Noah from entering a specific room during full moon nights. If you were Ronan, you normally got a glare and _also_ a curse to your feet. Not the silent treatment, of course, because Ronan cursed Adam back and then they spent detention together and Ronan pestered Adam until he talked to him again.

On very special occasions, however, if you were Ronan Lynch and you came too close to Adam Parrish, and the stars were aligned so and so and Jupiter was rising and it was raining frogs somewhere in the planet—Ronan had _not_ dropped from Astronomy, but he only went because he liked the idea of missing classes the morning after because he was tired from his midnight class, and he never did his homework anyway—you got a different result. And that day was _clearly_ a very special occasion, seeing as Adam Parrish was not wearing his tie.

“It’s just,” Adam said, gripping his bag strap tightly, “that they put up a notice on the common room board. For that Apparition course?” Ronan nodded. He’d seen it too, in his own common room. Couldn’t sign up because he was too young, apparently. Bullshit—he’d been apparating since two summers ago, and hadn’t even splinched a single leg hair. “So I wanted to sign up for it, because it’s really useful and I’m already turning seventeen this summer, so I’d be able to do magic and it was going to be a _good summer_. You know?”

Ronan didn’t. He never saw Adam during the summers. He went to the Barns in the holidays, and sometimes firecalled Gansey or maybe Blue, but it was mostly time he got to spend with his family. Declan was also there, true, but when he wasn’t surrounded by the pretentious goons he usually ran with— _it’s called networking, Ronan, and you should practice it too, sometime_ —he wasn’t nearly as unbearable as he was in Hogwarts. Ronan was glad this year he was too busy with his NEWTs to be harassing Ronan about what he spend his free periods doing.

“So why didn’t you sign up?” Ronan asked.

Adam glanced away.

“It was twelve Galleons.”

Ronan opened his mouth. He closed it before he could say the first thing that had come to his mind. He discarded his second thought, and his third one, and finally settled on the fourth one.

“I can teach you,” he said.

Adam’s eyes snapped at him.

“You want to _teach me_ how to Apparate. And then, what? You’re gonna magically forge my license, too, or what?”

“Well, I _could_ , but you can get your license whenever. Like, later. After you save some money, or whatever the fuck.”

Adam’s glare wasn’t really the same when the blue of his eyes wasn’t brought up by his ever-neat tie knot, so Ronan shut his mouth.

“And how is it that you know how to Apparate, exactly?”

“My dad taught me.”

“Your dad,” Adam echoed, ominous in the large room.

“Yep.” Ronan’s feet shuffled a little.

“Show me, then.”

Ronan shook his head. “I can’t.”

“Sure. Look, I have to go.”

It was too late to get to Herbology, so Adam was probably going back to his dorm to find his tie. That was good, Ronan supposed. It would right the world back, a little. Maybe. Or maybe the damage was already done and there was no fixing it.

“No, wait.” Ronan’s hand shot out, for some reason, and he fumbled with his robes until he found once more the pocket he seemed to have misplaced among the fabric. “I mean—I can’t, in here. There are Anti-Apparition wards.”

“Oh. Right.”

If Ronan didn’t know better, he’d say Adam’s ears looked a bit pinker than they had a second before. It might be a trick of the light, though—self-lighting candles, especially those over two hundred years, had a tendency to provoke optical illusions.

“But I _can_ show you,” Ronan rushed out, before Adam had a chance to leave. “Next Hogsmeade weekend—we can find a quiet spot and, I don’t know, practice, or something.” He flashed a smirk, because Adam Parrish was not likely to be fooled by the candles. “You’ll see, Parrish. Be top of the class in less than an hour.”

Adam snorted. “Is it an open class?”

“No, dumbass. Besides, I was planning on asking you something else. We could make a deal.”

Adam took a step down, which forced Ronan to take one too.

“A deal.”

“Yep,” Ronan nodded enthusiastically. “I teach you Apparition, and you help me with my Muggle Studies project?”

He hadn’t planned on handing it in, but he’d gathered if he at least did _some_ of his homework, Declan had less leverage to chastise every single one of his life decisions. And, all right, Ronan didn’t care about what Declan thought—much—but he had this annoying habit of bringing this shit up when they were home and having dinner.

And, well, he cared about what _his mum_ thought.

“Why, because I’m a Muggleborn?” Adam was back at snapping. Ronan wasn’t sure he could keep up.

“Well. Yes,” he lamely said. “I know nothing about televisions and bycicles. You do, right? Win-win.”

“What kind of project involves both bikes _and_ TV?”

Ronan shrugged.

“I think the Professor’s confused about them, too.”

Adam tugged at his hair.

“All right. When’s the next Hogsmeade weekend, anyway?”

“Next week.” Not that Ronan had been counting the days, plotting and discarding plans to ask Adam to go with him to get a Butterbeer, or something.

“Oh, right. It’s Valentine’s Day, isn’t it?”

Ronan scoffed. There was no way he could bring the candles excuse _now_ , if Adam brought up his flushed cheeks.

“Well, so we’ve got a date,” Adam said.

Ronan blinked.

“A date?” Ronan repeated, wondering if he’d need to go ask Madam Pomfrey to perform an ear-cleaning charm.

Adam passed by Ronan, the hem of his robes sweeping by Ronan’s boots. He only turned back when he was already at the bottom of the stairs.

“I’ll bring my tie!” He smiled, and sprung down the last step.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the lovely [@creativefiend19](https://archiveofourown.org/users/creativefiend19/pseuds/creativefiend19) for sending me this prompt [on tumblr](https://hklnvgl.tumblr.com/): “every sound you make echoing in a huge, empty, dark room” and for also asking for a Hogwarts AU! I ended up with so many headcanons for such a rich setting that I hadn't anticipated at all, so thanks for that too! 💛
> 
> Title from a haiku by Akutagawa Ryūnosuke: On a spring day / I point to the open sea / there is a world.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are very much appreciated!


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